heartbreak

I keep having this recurring dream, where i’m in a Tiki bar (lol..ofcourse,) with the same faces, that I don’t know in REAL life, but know like best friends in ‘dream land.’ (Hahah. Don’t ask!) In this Tiki Bar, there are really exotically, lavish looking cocktails. The one I always see in my dream, is the one that comes in a ceramic, ‘sort of zombie, hula dancer’talldrinky cup…and it ‘moonwalks‘ backwards, around the rim of peoples wooden Tiki tables, as they *wink* at strangers and I watch on.

That’s all normal.

(In my world.)

But last night, I dreamt that Mike, my first husband was there (in this Tiki Bar..He’d hate that) and we were falling back in love, but sexily. (I don’t love him, don’t worry. My dream just wanted me to.) We kept feeling it each other up lovingly and cuddling all the time? It was almost as if he was the ‘key’ to all my life happiness.

Then we went back to a dark hotel and had ‘dream land’ sex. But it felt like we were in New York, high in the sky. I remember looking out of a window that looked over the city.

I got zapped out of that! I *blinked* and everything had disappeared.

Then…

…all of a sudden ‘Boyband Jonny,’ who I used to date years ago, straight after the Hilton Show, *popped* up in my dream. He’s Gay now. In fact, he was Gay, all along. He just didn’t realize it, at the time, when he dated me. He mixed up fancying me, for simply finding me fabulous. I’m probably the only girl, he’s ever had ‘half sex’ with. He said, I broke his heart. I didn’t though. I was simply ‘key’ to him discovering himself.

I like Jonny, he’s cool. He was actually a great boyfriend. He wrote me a love letter, when I left in a taxi. I am extremely happy, that HE is happy now, he’s found himself and utter true love.

I don’t mind an unfortunate bit of ‘heart break,’ if it’s helpful.

HOWEVER…

I do hate it when my exes hijack my dreams!!! Especially,when i’m at a Tiki Bar, (do they not have dream land’ manners.) A Tiki bar, by the way, is my favourite kind of bar in the whole wide world. (If i could own one, I would. Yet, not for profit, just for kicks.)

I want to be able to have my heart broken, storm into my Tiki, BE pissed off, put on my hula skirt, and sip rum out of a flaming fired coconut, with a cocktail umbrella in my hair, as I pull faces and cry.

I’d have to own it, simply because I wouldn’t want to get my ‘sorry, hula, ass’ up and pay my tab , whilst crying. I’d need Tiki minions for that.

It’d make ‘hearkbreak’ much easier.

I just can’t get away from being haunted by my exes. Why??

STUPID CUPID, you’re A REAL MEAN, guy.

I’m even getting tattoos shortly, to both celebrate and at the same time REMIND ME of things that happened to me this year…

AGAIN, I’ve had a big year of change and I need to remember it. I want to remember it. So I’m going to Tattoo it.

Ofcourse…Lol

(I haven’t had a tattoo in a million years.)

I was telling Ruby, in bed, last night…and even SHE *paused,* laughed and said..

‘Oh my GOD! Don’t get THAT ONE!!!’

She’s SEVEN! Hahaha. She looked at me like I was ‘whacked.’

Hurrah! Flaming Coconut Drinks for everyone!

Yesterday, I was doing bits of Christmas shopping, at The Frenchgate Centre, in Doncaster, and I decided to go on the ‘Put £1 in it’ massage chairs.

I love a massage.

I love a moment, where you can just hit *pause* and relax for a second, during the bustle. That’s why I used to love Prosecco Pit Stop. (Which no longer exists.)

Woe is me….

BUT, OH MY GOODNESS!

I haven’t actually been on a massage chair in YEARS. Let me tell you. They HAVE IMPROVED!!

I’m sat there, slightly awkward, slightly in public, slightly okay with it though. I’m used to winging an awkward situation and making it look glam. (Hilton taught me well.)

The money goes in the slot and HOLY SHIT, that CHAIR, MADE LOVE TO ME.

It caressed and moaned and rubbed and loved. It oozed. It cared. It romanced and it danced.

THEN…OUT OF NOWHERE…

THE massage chair STARTS ******* BATTERING ME. It starts PUNCHING MY BACK with glee. Then BASHING MY HEAD, FROM SIDE TO SIDE. (Haha.) It starts SQUEEZING THE LIFE, out of my little Asian ribs …and WORST OF ALL…EMBEDDED IN THE CHAIR, MUST HAVE BEEN AN ANAL THUMPER…

HAHAHA…

SOMETHING KEPT RISING UP, IN THE CHAIR AND THUMPING ME UP THE BUM, BUM….

..REPEATEDLY!!!!!

HAHAHA.

I couldn’t make it stop and I kept having to pretend, everything was lovely, because I was in public and my daughter was stood next to me. LOL

Do I just have this affect on everything!?! Nothing can just LOVE ME FOREVER, without aggressively Anal thumping me? It started so ‘steadily.’ It loved me. IT DID!!! Then just went MAD and started being hateful or horny????

THEN, when the abused had finished, the chair went on to *SQUEEZE* by legs to death (and my legs are pathetic like Bambi…But luckily, it all suddenly *stopped.*

BUT my legs had got TRAPPED!!! (Hahaha)

WHAT THE ******* IS MY LIFE!!!

I thought the deal was that I only had to ‘suffer’ through the LOVE part of my existence…NOT the ACTUAL other bits of actual LIFE TOO!

ANAL THUMPING!

I put FIFTY SHADES TO SHAME.

Who needs, a RED ROOM? In fact, who needs a fucking husband!?!

I want another go!!!

Ruby was there trying to free my legs, but laughing so hard, she was in tears. MY MUM KNEW, bad stuff was going to happen to me, so instead of protecting me, she decided to FILM the horror.

I’m sure she’s secretly like, ‘I paid shit loads of money to put you through school, you WILL become a STAR, even if I have to FORCE IT, film it and get the insta likes FOR YOU!!’

Then I get home, needing 72 wines, a bit of calm and a spot of telly and all that’s on is a ‘Come Dine With Me’ episode with a Farmer, who has made everyone horny with BEETROOT, by fireworks and an ex body building Geordie, in a purple towel, who’s baked a pie?

I LOVE ‘COME DINE WITH ME.’ (I once got asked to go on the show, but didn’t go on it, because I didn’t want to cook for everyone…which obviously is the whole point. Haha.)

I don’t even cook for my own children, let alone strangers. (Ruby at 7, could probably be a fine dining, food critic, she’s eaten out THAT much.)

Bottom line, I was passing time before ‘X Factor,’ followed by a dose of ‘I’m a Celeb.’

After the massage chair, I wasn’t in the mood for watching pies being made…I either needed a documentary on GOD, TO heal my broken soul, like a prayer. OR just go the other way and find something on the lines of ‘Debbie Does Dallas.’

This time next week, I’m on FIRST DATES!!!

I’M ON FIRST DATES, NEXT MONDAY!!!

I actually can’t wait to watch tonight’s episode. It’s almost like a starter, for my ‘next week’ main! 😉

I had such a ‘drama’ Monday, after the most blissful & peaceful weekend of ‘family.’ I’ve got so much going on, that i’m filling myself with a delicious flourish of stress. It’s kinda topped up with that beautiful thing we call ‘anxiety,’ simply because i’m terrified. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me? So, i’m gonna go with hormones?

I’m back on the telly shortly…That’s worrying me. I’ve got a lot to organise with the kids…That’s worrying me. I have shoots galore and auditions coming out my ‘hooty..’ That’s worrying me. My love life is *whizzing* around me, almost madly…I don’t even know what’s going on? Yes. I get a lot of attention. Yes, I’m single.

However, I’m noticing that, if I ever begin to feel for anyone, I get stressed out, because giant *CAUTION* signs go up everywhere. I’ve always had a shit love life. So, it’s scary. Plus, I’m absolutely emotional, so to me, it only means ‘danger.‘ I do not ever want to get my heartbroken again….EVER. I tread carefully. (Well…fuck that. I ‘stiletto.’)

I have travels and schedules and places to influence…Everything’s a juggle…Sometimes, I panic and I can’t even breathe. (Cue: Drama 😉 )

But the weird thing is, i’m HAPPY. I’m really happy and maybe being so happy, or so lucky, makes me worry because LET ME TELL YOU, my life hasn’t been so easy….Haha. It’s laughable.

Basically, I’m scared of everything right now, because i’m having to pinch myself…and I need to ‘Man up,’ count my blessings and get on with it, with panache.

Anyway…

At the weekend, I did Meadowhall with The Wunna’s and Ruby. (Junior was at his Dads.) We were pretty much treated like Meadowhall shopping royalty (and I thank you for that, because I don’t even know why?) It did feel wonderful though.

We shopped and stopped at Wagamama’s. Then after cocktail refuels, toy stores, makeup counters, new hair (we all need those extra few inches,) and my brand new chakra beads…Life felt almost perfect.

(She is right, though. Even though I told her to ‘shush.‘ At this rate, i’m gonna need to see Buddha and get blessed by monks, or something! Maybe i’m just not meant for ‘Total Enlightenment.’ Maybe, i’m meant to live this ridiculous life of pathetic glory, for your entertainment… Haha.)

I’m starting to believe that…

‘Hey Destiny…You’ve fucked me over. You’re off the Christmas card list! You’re chilling on the naughty list, with Cupid and a few Pretty Boy exes from 2004.’

This is how I feel right now…

Like I’ve drank 42 energy drinks, had a bottle of rum, taken all my clothes off, and then thrown MYSELF to the lions.

Then…because i’m not at all mental….

…I lost the car…I always lose the car…Oh! Wait!! I don’t mean?Ugh. I’m rambling. I didn’t REALLY lose the car! I kinda ‘misplaced’ it? Y’know, when you can’t quite remember where you left it? 🙂 My Mum, drove home, because obviously, I guzzled Aperol Spritzies…after The Disney Store.

Fair enough, there was lots of wine, brunches and fun over the weekend. I checked in with my friends…briefly. Got on top of work. Then just relaxed with the kids. However….one of my favourite moments of the weekend, was the ‘school mum..’ catch up…

(There was a kids birthday party over the weekend…)

Miss.Murphy: ‘What are you wearing!?! Lol. Who wears glitter shoes to a kids party..?? Haha.’

Me: ‘Shut up. Lol. These are my driving shoes.’

Sam: ‘Does Ruby want Pizza?’

Me: ‘It’s like the Real Housewives of Yorkshire…’

Mum: ‘I got asked to be on Real Housewives of Marbella, a while ago, but I said no…I’m too boring, for it!’

Me: ‘You said NO! As if you said NO!! I can’t believe you said no. I would’ve moved to Marbella, to have done it. Haha.’

( I live for that show…It calms me, when I’m stressed. Yet, so does the occasional Jeremy Kyle episode…? So, yeah…I’m mental. Ignore me.)

Other Mum: ‘Oh yeah. I’m gonna be flying away with him.’

Miss. Murphy: ‘You’re actually going now! What about…?’

Other Mum: ‘Oh…he doesn’t know..’

Miss.Murphy: ‘You said he was fat and bald…But he’s not at all?’

Me: ‘How have I sat here for an hour and not known it’s your birthday today!!’

Miss. Murphy: ‘So, are you seeing your date again?’

I never thought i’d be a traditional ‘school mum.’ Yet, there’s just something about this group of Mamas, that is filled with the ‘sexy.’ They’re actually not traditional, school mums, in rain macs. They’re alive. They’re fun. They have designer shoes that read ‘LOVE.’ Louis Vuitton handbags and possible stables…’

They’re, what I call ‘Prosecco Mums,’ and I love them, madly. I’m like the tragic misfit of the bunch. The single, no husband, disorganized one, with a suggestive Insta profile…

We’re all really different from one another. Yet, w’re all great women. Confident women. Great mothers and well, I just really enjoy they’re company.

My inbox is * pinging,* almost every minute, with people asking me about my love life and my last date etc…

All I can tell you is that, the guy that I did the Manchester Airport date with, was wonderful. He says he wants to see me again, and I definitely will. I found him really sexy and confident. He’s smart and thoughtful. I liked him. I’find him interesting…I want to know lots about him…I’ll definitely be meeting him again. (I’m only one ‘meeting’ in. So it’s all ‘early doors.’)

I’m just treading carefully…Like I said, I’m not bothered about getting my heart broken, right now, when I have so much going on…

I eventually want to fall in love. I’m a true romantic. I want to be swept off my feet. Adored. Respected. And y’know, in that one meet up, my date was that! He was a REAL MAN, which made me notice that I’d not only been looking in the wrong place for love, but i’d wasted a lot of my time, on ‘little boys.’ At 37 years old, I don’t need to be doing that!

When it comes to love…

…this time..because obviously i’ve been married three times and had numerous flings and relationships..I want to PROPERLY fall in love. I want it to be stable and forever…with no stress. No drama.

And I do want to just say, that even though on paper, i’ve dated, romanced, flinged, loved, married, divorced, sexed..and well…just all sorts, with men, all over the world.

DO KNOW THAT….

… I never did all that because I was a floozy. That’s one of the biggest misconceptions about me. I’m a love bunny. There were options. I was young. A glamour model. Off the telly…Growing up in Hollywood…All sorts.

Yet, I never was and still not a man eater. I’m non judgemental. I’m modern. Yet when it comes to love, I’m quite ‘fairytale.’ I’m quite traditional…I’m a hopeless romantic, with a capital ‘H.’

I’m tragic…

So, every single time, I went into these encounters, with men, boys, gents, or misfits..

I always hoped (like any girl or woman,) that they would love me forever.

It just didn’t and still hasn’t quite worked out that way….

It’s actually only when I suddenly realise, that they guy i’ve been chatting to, or dating, only see’s me as a ‘bed notch’ or someone they daren’t date… It was only THEN…at that point, when I HAVE to file the encounter under ‘casual,‘ and ‘take it on the chin,’ without being embarrassed.

I’m not someone who really wants random casual sex. I love sex. But i don’t play a numbers game. I want to feeel a connection.

Plus, If i’m honest, I can have sex with anyone… I have an inbox full of offers…almost every few minutes.

That doesn’t make me feel mighty. It’s flattering. I appreciate the ‘adoration..’ Of course I do….

If anything it stresses me out, because I think, ‘how the hell can I have so much attention and not find Mr.Right. That ONE MAN, who will truly love and treasure me forever?’

I’m ready to fall in love…

I’m just scared to….

It makes me anxious…

Anyway…

Away from all that…Sunday morning was great because before Meadowhall, I got to chatter to Lil’ Sam Reece. I shouldn’t call him ‘Lil’ as he’s pretty grown. He’s a good guy. I’ve referred to him as ‘Tats’ on this blog before.

I like waking up on a Sunday morning to a Reecy phone ‘ping.’ We’ll just have brief morning banter. ..then get on with life. We chatter in ‘spits & spots’ a lot. We both always have really shit love lives…We’re both ‘Yorkshire.’ We actually get on well. It’s easy. We wired the same way. We have the same banter.. This Sunday we talked ‘car bonnets/hotels and flat caps.’

I was actually gonna meet him for drinks..But I ended up doing Meadowhall instead and he ended up doing boy drinks…

But he’s a good guy. So I have a lot of respect for our Sam. He’s a good buddy…I’d see Sam as the kinda guy, i’d go for a drink with and kiss in the elevator when no one was looking. Haha!

(That hasn’t happened, by the way, before you all get excited. But i’d definitely kiss him in an elevator…It’d be a waste of ‘sexy’ people, if not. I don’t like to waste sexy people. You only live once.)

Just the most amazing time in the city last night. I cherished, good times. No! Great times…with the people who I will always regard as my absolute closest . (Until I’m a superstar and never speak to them again. 😉 We’re like family and I’ve honestly had a great 2017 because of them.

I love the little swines and i’m really really lucky. I mean, not many people, in my position or way of life have a close bundle of friends, that the can trust and rely on. I do! We’re all really different from one another, yet each add a certain spice to the pot. If you have a problemo, a secret, a love….you’ll know which friend in the group to turn to…and in their own magical way, over cocktails, a cuddle, a whatsapp message, a warm dinner, a new set of heels, or a tissue….they’ll be right by your side, picking up the pieces.

I’m currently in Ego, Ackworth, sat infront of a huge mirror, with a half of Fosters, writing this blog….

I adore a good mirror seat. One where it looks like I have my back to you, but I can see EVERYTHING. My vanity gets the better of me. Yes. I’ll admit that. However, I also love the stories that mirrors tell. I’ve watched women with party hats and light up Christmas jumpers wander behind me. Business men. Families. Lone Rangers with quiet pints. Grown adults in weird Elf hats. Girls all a gossiping. And awkward humans on first dates. I love a mirror in the midst of a ‘busy bustle.’ It’s always so magical. Always so glamourous.

But anyway, last night I was out in the city…

As the story goes, the day turned to night. I had had a somewhat stressful day of ‘rushy.’ I HATE RUSHING. I’m a glamour puss. I do things in my own manner, with my own panache and at my own pacing. Not yesterday though. Fuck. I dashed to three cities, running errands, doing meetings, making sure Ruby & Junior were enjoying every inch of their Christmas holidays. I had a deadline. I needed to be ready. Then after the fastest totter, a warm bath, placing my phone on charge and a slip into my silver sequinned dress from the Kourtney Kardashian line for Pretty Little Thing….I dashed out the door, twinkled through the night sky, jumped in a taxi..

And Whatsapped ‘Double B’ with a…

‘I’m 3 mins away from yours…’

We drank wine out the bottle, all the way to ‘Firmonnells,’

Double B: ‘How many people do you reckon you’ve slept with?’

Me: ‘Why are they like cardboard cut outs?’

Double B: ‘They’re just Vanilla..’

(I once referred to one of my exes as ‘vanilla.’ He was in a boyband and I’d just come off a tv show for ITV2. To this day he says I apparently broke his heart? However, surely if you say ‘I don’t want us to be together anymore Chrissie because I’m gay’ that would mean that no hearts were broken in the process. Well, maybe my heart? 😉

He said he loved me madly, yet never messaged me when we broke up because he didn’t know what to say. I just took that as ‘oh he doesn’t care’ and I was fine with that. You can’t MAKE someone love you. You can MAKE someone care about you. Yet ‘true love’ is a whole different potion. If they feel you in their spirit….they will always find their way back to you.

Yiddley Doooooooo!

Anyway, Double B and I apologized to the driver for making him listen to our sexy girl banter AAALLLLLL the way to ‘Firmonnells.’ Yet he assured us he LOVED IT.

Driver: ‘It’s made my night girls.’

We were joined by ‘Fairytale Blond’ and a bit of ‘Mama Sally.’ We did wee’s, drank prosecco, borrowed jackets, exchanged gold clutches and found ourselves on our way to Leeds city centre…our city….yet via THE SINGLE MOST AMAZING train station ever. I’ve never travelled from Garforth before. THEY SERVED BOTTLE PROSECCO, IN BOUJI PLASTIC CHAMPAGNEFLUTES, THROUGH A WINDOW ON THE ACTUAL PLATFORM!!! I know!!! It’s absolute BLISS! All you have to do is buy a bag of crisps with it (because you are only allowed booze with food) and you’re plain sailing and en route to Leeds, with a happy prosecco jiggle.

With our drinks, in our dresses, with our heels in place and whilst the girls decided to MAKE FUN of my WONDERFUL peacock phone cover.

Double B: ‘What the fuck is that!!’

Firmonnell: ‘It’s fucking horrible.’

Me: ‘SHUT UP! The loveliest phone man gave it to me FOR FREE today, for a selfie, you dicks! I love it!!’

(It’s a golden peacock with diamante studs and multi coloured gems scattered throughout its tail. Lol I actually really do LOVE IT. They despise it and think it looks tacky, because they’re ‘haters’ and can’t handle my glamourisms. They even made a guy on the train tell me that he hated it too! Haha! What dicks)

Anyway within a second we pulled into Leeds, they’re all running like wild women to meet the rest of the group, and i’m trying to catch up, as i’m spilling my prosecco all over me and some guy in a hat with chatting to me about…can’t even remember really? If Santa was a chimney sweeper, it would be him. He was lovely!

Long story short. All met up at a train station bar…who wouldn’t let everyone in because they had reached capacity. It was THAT BUSY. The rest of the girls joined the group and the boys joined us also. Then through the busy city streets, we all walked up ‘hand in hand’ to Backroom Leeds, as ‘Firmonnell’ and I tried to decide if we were actually lesbians?

Me: ‘But I really DO fancy Ellen Degeneres.’

Firmonnell: ‘But what about when you need a penis in you after they’ve…’

The Backroom was great! It’s a small decadent, ‘speakeasy’ bar on Call Lane. Plays the best music. Has a private outdoor terrace. And we had the whole downstairs floor/bar, to ourselves, as our own. It was just for us, our whole group and that was that.

The night was AMAZING.

Slowly but surely, everyone we knew trickled in, piece by piece, a wink at time, the boys in shirts, the girls in short dresses and heels. We love to glam it up…so each ‘trickle’ was dressed to the nines, straight to the bar and with ‘good time’ glint in their eyes. It’s always great when it’s just us, because anything goes, no one will judge and we can all pretty much surrender to the art of celebrating life, the year and friendship….. in the most pissed fashion, forget to eat the yummiest finger food and with all the free drinks that our tokens will allow us.

We danced, we flirted, we booty popped, we ‘dutty wined,’ we let loose, we turned wild, we snapchatted, we kissy cheeked, we all thought we were sexier than we probably were and we DRANK….we fucking DRANK! Hustle Barbie fell on the floor AGAIN…took ‘Fairytale’ and ‘Double B’ with her. Lol

Hustle Barbie: ‘It’s my new thing.’

Cuddles and kisses and sequins and hip hop tracks.

Mood lighting, shots, hair tosses and fresh air terraces.

Gossips, lies, drama and whispers….

At one point i think my whole entire top fell down for a second, due my excessive booty dance routine. I have no booty, so I have to really work at the back shimmie. Caused boobies to fall out because my dress was too big…Nobody cared. They loved it.

Webbo & Jonsez & Dipper & New Boys! They were all really lucky, because we chicas has already hit ‘good time’ and wine bottles, so like props we used the boys for flirts and dance floor swizzles. Hot new faces kept appearing out of nowhere. I backed up and a hot face was behind me. I walked forward and another new hot face greeted me. I even got a cheeky bum grab. (I love a bum grab at 30 something. It’s naughty. It’s fun. It’s a good way to get me to notice you….and he was REALLY HOT. Super handsome.)

Lots of ‘Hollyoaks’ style drama occurred last night. It went from whisper to whisper, to confrontations, to verbal fights. It went from learnt lessons, to hearts breaking, to no judgements and personality clashes. It went from stories told, to secrets revealed and tests of friendships and truth telling.

‘You can sleep with who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a shit! Own it.’

‘Why is she blanking me. I haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘This is ridiculous!’

‘Yeah…I already knew that. We all did!’

‘I just love her and I don’t stand a fucking chance.’

‘Just stay away from me. Don’t come near me. What do you think you’re…’

‘Who told you that??’

‘You need to man up…’

‘You else do you fancy?’

‘He’s done now…’

‘I’m leaving. This is fucked up.’

‘If she comes up to me again, whilst i’m trying to talk to you…I’m gonna..’

‘Don’t judge people on shit…Whocares..’

‘I can’t deal with this. Do you want a shot?’

‘She won’t even speak to me now.’

‘I don’t care what you’ve done…’

‘You’re beautiful. Am I stalking you?’

‘This is the last time i’ve ever going to get to dance with you…’

‘You’re new. You’re hot. Are you on Insta?’

‘Who does she think she is!!!’

‘How is this ALL MY FUCKING FAULT.’

[Echo….Echo…Echo….Echo….]

*STOP*

And even though all of the snippets above occurred, this is what I noticed…I noticed that every single one of us were close. That every single one of us chose to prioritise ‘good times’ over drama. We danced, we laughed, we gave zero fucks. I noticed that in the end, enjoying our friendships with each other, is what we chose to make matter…and THAT is what makes us a family. (Moderately dysfunctional…but s….we’re fly. 😉 )

The clock struck 3am. Time flew by us. We didn’t even realise how fast it has flown!

‘AS IF IT’S 3AM!!! WTF!’

‘Don’t leave…come back..’

‘Come to Fibre with me…’

‘Get in my Uber.’

‘Don’t leave me..’

I had stayed in the private section at Backroom ALL NIGHT, so I didn’t actually realise how busy the place has got upstairs. I walked up to the open air terrace holding Double B’s hand…and it was RAMMED. It was MENTAL.

A guy stopped me with a,

‘Are you Chrissie Wooonaaa?’

‘Yeah…yeah…why?’

‘Do you remember me…?’

‘Jake?’

(I didn’t know if it was Jake… 🙂 )

Yet the crowd took us into different directions and as I sat on the terrace, chatting to ‘Double B,’ under the night stars…(I’m doing a lot of the night stars of recent, aren’t I..)

I watched Jonesez look at me, with all the heartbreak of the world in his eyes…as he stood up off, from the side of the terrace and walked away slowly, with his head all a muddle….

It snowed today…which means there’s magic in the air….

All I know about life is that there are MORE UPS, than there are downs. More GOOD TIMES, than there are bad. And that ANYTHING can happen in a moments wink of an eye….Dreams come true. Life is only has hard as you make it.

It’s the ones of us who can ‘surf that crest.’ The ones of us who stand by what we love and believe is right, for OUR OWNVERSION of existence that get the most out of the world and what’s on offer.